Alice in NY
by Hana Noiazei
Summary: Matthew Williams is a brilliant fashion designer, travelling to New York to seek a position in the prestigious fashion company Romana and to get revenge on a childhood bully. Ally Jones is an amateur model who was hired by a pragmatic businessman intent on proving a point. As the Wonderland Fashion Show creeps closer, they have to jump down the rabbit hole to ensure a victory.


New York City. The heart of the United States, where east and west connect, host city of the annual Wonderland Fashion Show and exactly where Matthew is heading.

Away from his home in Toronto, all the way to another country and away from jerks who insulted his art. Here, he knows, people have style. _They'll _appreciate his designs.

_Caterpillar and Co., _the company's called. Started out in Italy with a group of brilliant siblings and moved to the states just a few years ago. An advertising company, working alongside the designer brand _Romana_, where some of the world's finest models have worked. Including last year's Wonderland winner…

The White Rabbit, Fleur Bonnefoy. World-famous player, trickster and all-round bitch; the one who laughed the loudest at Matthew's fashion designs back at school, who dropped out in eleventh grade to join _Caterpillar _and texted him a photo of her with her modelling buddies.

"Chase me, _Fashionista_," she said. Matthew reaches a soaring office building and steps inside, messenger bag clutched to his chest. _I'm chasing you now, _he thinks. _I'll show you I was always as good._

_Caterpillar and Co_.'s headquarters are on the seventeenth floor on the building, and Matthew feels his nerves growing with every _ding _of the elevator. When the elevator doors slide open, he finds himself standing in front of a pair of average-looking glass doors, showing a mural-covered wall and the company's logo.

_Welp, no going back now_. Matthew pushes the doors open and steps inside, standing in front of the front desk like a prisoner awaiting execution. "H-Hello?"

A young man runs out from the hallway on Matthew's right and plops down behind the desk. "I'm so sorry! She was yelling at Fernandez Carriedo again and Beilschmidt was trying to stop them and—" He takes a deep breath and looks at Matthew. The pin on his button-down shirt reads _Savino Vargas_. "How may I help you?"

"Oh, uh, hi there." Matthew waves awkwardly. "I… have an interview with Mr. and Ms. Vargas fifteen minutes later. Matthew Williams, appointment at 7:30?"

"Ah!" Savino leaps up again, gesturing for Matthew to follow. "Mr. Williams! Follow me, please, you may wait in Ms. Vargas' office."

Savino leads him down a hallway, passing door after brightly-painted door. At the end of the hallway is a solitary door and the only one not covered in vibrant paintings, he realises why soon enough: the only thing adorning the oak door is a bronze plaque that reads _Katherine Vargas — co-owner of Caterpillar and Co. and CEO of Romana._

Matthew is left to walk inside himself, knocking first and entering after five minutes of silence. The room is empty, the walls painted with elaborate filigree and lined with framed photos of _Romana_'s greatest models — Vargas herself, an older blonde woman posing with a grin, and, largest of all, Fleur Bonnefoy in all her glory.

He sits down in the plush armchair in front of the desk at the back of the room, swallowing nervously. The desk is piled with papers, drawings, notebooks, all packed with Vargas' messy scrawl. The window behind the desk shows the winking lights of New York City against the night sky.

The door swings open with a slam and heels click against the floor, before a livid-looking Katherine Vargas reaches her desk, pulls her chair out and drops into it with a venomous scowl. "Fucking Feli," Matthew hears her mutter. "Messing around with _my _models because he doesn't have his own. Oh, as if he can't do well enough with Lukasiewicz and his groupies." She looks up, noticing Matthew for the first time. "Oh. Hello."

"Good evening, Ms. Vargas," Matthew says cautiously. "I'm Matthew Williams, and I'm here to apply as a designer in _Romana_?"

"A designer?" Vargas' acid-green eyes narrow. "You? How old are you, Williams, sixteen?"

"I'm twenty, Ms. Vargas."

"Hmph. I've looked through your resume, Williams, and your art teachers do speak very highly of you."

"Thank you?"

"But regardless of what they say, I want to see your designs myself. Come on now, show me." Vargas holds out a hand expectantly. Matthew reaches into his bag for his folder of designs, only to drop them all when someone bursts into the room.

"Katherine!"

Matthew turns to see a grinning, auburn-haired man, striding towards Vargas' seat with hands in his blue suit's pockets.

"Get out, Feliciano, I'm talking to someone."

The younger Vargas sibling reaches Matthew's side and laughs. "Ooh, he's going to be your new designer because you refuse to use Feliks, right?"

"So what if he is?" Vargas snaps. "The Wonderland Fashion Show is a month away and we still haven't thought of an outfit."

"Or a model."

"Fleur can do it again, you know. She has the talent."

"Oh, the same old model in the same old outfit?" Feliciano muses. "Wouldn't that be just _boring_?"

"It won't be boring, you ass, because we'll have a new designer!"

"You mean the one who designs like _this_?" Feliciano points at the floor, where a pile of paper is lying. "Look at his designs, Katherine, and tell me how we can win with them."

Katherine gets up from her seat, looking at the papers curiously. She stares for one minute, then two, before picking them up and stacking them neatly. "Williams."

"Y-Yes?"

"How old did you say you were again?"

"Twenty."

She stares at the papers for a while more, muttering to herself. "Kids these days, all insanely talented, how does he do this well at _twenty_…" Katherine smacks a hand on her desk, making Feliciano and Matthew jump. "You're hired, come back here at eight o'clock to start working."

Feliciano's eyes widen. "You're kidding!"

"I'm serious, Feli. Now the two of you, get out."

Matthew leaves the office on autopilot mode, giddy at the fact that _he's now working for Katherine Vargas_.

…

Ally sees the poster everywhere, its gold headline as bright and glaring as everything else in New York City. _Who Will Be The Next Alice? _It asks. _Jump down the rabbit hole at the Wonderland Fashion Show, where models from all around the globe are competing for the top spot!_

One part of her scoffs and calls it stupid, but the other longs to join in, or at least watch. _The world's best models, _that part whispers. _Isn't that what you want to be part of?_

And it's true, she wants to compete and she wants to win, but it's impossible. She's modelled for _maybe_ one fashion brand that nobody knew about, that being her only experience.

But hey, a girl can dream.

She sees another of those posters near the Empire State Building, plastered on the walls of a cafe. This time she stops to take a closer look, staring longingly at the gaudy snapshots of runways, spotlights, and, at the very centre, a photo of last year's winner.

In all her photographic glory is Fleur Bonnefoy, dressed in clothes Ally can only dream of wearing. She starts to imagine herself like that, standing under the spotlight in beautiful dresses, being showered in compliments and cheers.

She almost misses the bright-red sports car that rolls up next to her.

A man jumps out of the car, heading for Ally with a spring in his step and a smile on his face. Her eyes widen when he gets closer and she gets a good look at him — messy auburn hair, twinkling amber eyes and that dopey grin that shows up on television so much.

Feliciano Vargas himself.

"Hello! Are you a model?" He asks.

"I…" _That one brand counts too. _"Yes?"

"Fantastic!" Feliciano gestures wildly for his car, beckoning for Ally to follow. "Come with me, _bella_, because you're about to be in the running in the Wonderland Fashion Show!"

"_What?_"

"We haven't got time to waste!" And he reaches his car, swinging the door open.

Ally, utterly confused and one hand holding the pepper spray bottle in her pocket, follows Feliciano into the car.

They stay silent until Feliciano starts the engine and they take off at breakneck speed. Ally grips the edges of her seat in shock, praying that they avoid an accident.

"Your name?"

"Uh…" Ally looks up from holding her seatbelt in a death grip. "Allison Jones, but I prefer Ally."

"Well, Ally, how long have you been modelling?"

"Since I graduated high school last year, I think. But I've only actually been a model once, for some obscure magazine that nobody really read."

"No matter." Feliciano makes a sharp swerve and Ally bites back a shriek. "I can see your potential, Ally. Once my designer's done with you, that winning spot will be ours."

"Thank y—"

"Aaaaand we're here!" The car stops abruptly and Ally lurches forward, seatbelt digging into her chest. "My sister's gone home already, so we don't need to sneak around or anything like that. Follow along, now."

She trails behind him, questioning _everything _as she steps into an elevator, listens to the crappy elevator music and follows Feliciano into _Caterpillar and Co._'s headquarters. Ally stares in awe at the murals splashed across the walls of the corridors, feeling like a pebble among diamonds.

When she comes back to reality, Ally finds herself inside a room, one wall covered in cork and notices tacked to the surface. Another wall is lined with photography gear, too many gadgets Ally doesn't recognise.

And another one, the opposite of the doorway, has plush chairs and tables along it. And three people sitting among the seats.

"I'm telling you, girl, Katherine has no taste! No taste at all! She hired this kid who's, like, a _high-schooler_ with no talent, and she just kicked me to the curb." She hears one of them saying. The blond man talking furiously to his co-workers is dressed in all pink, gesturing furiously with his hands. "I kind of feel sorry for him, though. At least I don't have to deal with Bonnefoy for a _second_ year."

"I heard that Williams is only twenty," the girl next to him says, fiddling with her skirt. "He may quit if the pressure proves to be too much."

"That'd be nice, I guess," the man grumbles. "But you know what that would mean? I'd have to face the literal _biggest _diva on Earth. And to that I say, 'no thank you'!"

"Oh, don't worry about that!" Feliciano cuts in. He waves to the trio and starts walking towards them, Ally following close behind. "We have a _new_ model, and a _new _plan, too! But don't tell Katherine about it."

The girl muffles a laugh behind her hands.

"Feliks, Kiku, I present to you Ally Jones, future winner of the Wonderland Fashion Show!"

Ally takes this as her cue to step out from behind Feliciano, and the man gasps.

"Oh. My. Goodness!" He points at Ally, nudging the bewildered girl next to her. "Kiku, do you _see_ her? Take a good look, because _that's _the type of model I want to work with. All that natural beauty and charisma!"

Kiku ignores him, getting up from her seat and holding out a hand for Ally to shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jones. My name is Kiku Honda, and I act as a photographer at _Caterpillar and Co._."

"Oh. Um. Hi there," Ally shakes Kiku's hand, feeling rather self-conscious. "I mean, uh, good evening. It's nice to meet you too."

"Re-_lax_," the man huffs, jumping to his feet. He takes Ally's hand, too, shaking it a little too hard. "You look too nervous, darling. Feliks Lukasiewicz, at your service. And just call me Feliks, I don't want someone else butchering my last name."

"Hi, Feliks." Ally glances at the chairs, where the last person, a brunette, is curled up with her nose buried in a book. "Uh, who's that?"

Feliks rolls his eyes, bends down next to the girl and nudges her on the shoulder.

"Hm?" The girl lowers her book, looking around the room. Her olive-green eyes rest on Ally at last. "Hello there. My name is Athena Karpusi. And you?"

"This is Ally Jones," Kiku says, watching as Athena gets up from her seat. "She's a model we'll be working with for the fashion show."

Athena's sleepy gaze somehow clears as she takes a good look at Ally. "She's pretty."

"I know, right?" Feliks adds. "We're _so _gonna win with her on our side!"

Ally starts to smile, the realisation dawning on her. She's working for Feliciano Vargas, training for one of the world's biggest fashion show, as a model.

"Hell yeah!"

…

Matthew gets to the headquarters at seven forty-five in the morning, a cup of coffee in hand. Savino gives him a thumbs-up from the front desk, tapping away at a computer. With no idea where do head, Matthew decides to go to Katherine's office first.

He reaches the door at the end of the corridor and is about to knock when he hears the explosion of voices from inside the room.

The conversation — well, argument — is in Italian, and barely any of the sharp words being exchanged sound familiar to Matthew. He catches his name a few times, something about a person named Jones and what sound like curse words.

Then the stomping of footsteps sound from inside the room and the doorknob turns. Not wanting to face the wrath of some fuming person, Matthew pushes the nearest other door open and jumps inside.

Katherine's office door slams open a split second after that, the auburn hair of Feliciano Vargas visible through a crack the door. He's muttering, in a mix of English and Italian, too fast for Matthew to hear. But he passes by the door without a glance and Matthew sighs in relief.

"Ahem."

Someone taps his shoulder, and he turns around.

Staring at him with cold red eyes is a young woman, smiling in the way that says, "I'm going to rip you apart." Her form-fitting dress is black, the hexagonal discs sewn on top reflecting the light in bright little specks. "Who are you and why are you here?"

"I… erm…"

"Are you lost, dear?" A second woman adds. She's brushing her hair, flicking chocolate locks behind her back with a lazy smile. "Where do you need to go?"

"I'm the new designer, actually." Matthew says, finding his voice. "Today's my first day."

The red-eyed woman jumps back, her lips curling into a sneer. "Holy shit, Katherine's blind," she drawls, running a hand through silver locks. "She hired a high-schooler."

"Don't be mean, Maria," the brunette chides. "Katherine can see perfectly well, and she's smart. She wouldn't hire a kid to help prepare for the fashion show."

"We'll see about that." Maria whirls around, her hair almost smacking Matthew in the face. "Come in."

Slowly, cautiously, Matthew walks into the room.

Maria pushes him into the seat next to her friend, snorting a little when he almost drops his coffee cup. "What's your name, kid?"

"Matthew Williams."

"Matthew Williams, I hear? Why's there mention of a wannabe teenage designer in this room?"

A third woman joins the two models, and Matthew drops his cup.

Fleur Bonnefoy, the White Rabbit leans down and peers into his face. Matthew tries not to push her away. "Well hello there, Fashionista," she coos, "fancy seeing you here."

"Fleur, is he the one you've been talking about all this time?"

She smiles, stepping daintily over the puddle of coffee on the floor, and settles down on a chair nice and far away from Matthew (_thank goodness_). "Yes, Sera, this is him. The boy who thinks he can design and the one who I know can never reach my level." Tilting her head at Matthew, she asks, "so what brings you here to Caterpillar and Co.? You need inspiration for your unoriginal designs?"

Finally finding the courage to talk, Matthew looks right into Fleur's ice-blue eyes and retorts, "no, Fleur. Katherine Vargas actually hired me to design your outfit for the Wonderland Fashion Show."

Fleur looks to Maria and Sera for confirmation, both of whom nod. "All right then, Williams," she says, sickly sweet. "You will design my outfit. But lose me the title of champion, _ma cher_, and I will remind you why you chased me in the first place."

…

"Yes, yes, yes, amazing!" Feliks bursts into a round of loud applause as Ally reaches the end of the makeshift runway. "Perfect! Flawless! _Immaculate!_ Ally Jones, with your sheer talent and my beautiful designs, you'll win this competition and leave everyone else crying in the dust. Kiku, how are the photos coming along?"

Kiku goes through the photos in her camera, coming dangerously close to smiling. "Very good," she says, "with these photos published in Athena's magazine, the world will see the next best model in the making. Isn't that right, Thena?"

Athena doesn't reply, typing rapidly on her laptop and occasionally taking glances at Ally. "The new White Rabbit," she mutters, "some might even say she's Alice herself."

"Hey, hey, don't jump to conclusions!" Ally says, gratefully accepting the cup of water from Kiku. "Before this, I worked at like one brand. D'you know how inexperienced I am compared to some of the other models? I mean, look at Fleur Bonnefoy! She's—"

"A total pain in the ass," Feliks interrupts, hands on his hips. "Demanding, ungrateful, aloof, one of the few people who managed to piss Athena off. Listen, Ally, I don't care how annoying you think you're being, but compared to Bonnefoy, you're a damned saint, sweetie."

"...thanks?"

"You must know, Ally, that you're doing an amazing job," Kiku pipes up, "I've seen models in the industry far, far longer than you have been who were still incapable of capturing that unique spirit of yours."

Leaning over to hug Kiku, she laughs. "Hey, thanks!" She gets kicked away and almost crashes into Athena. "One month later and we'll see if you're right."

…

Matthew doesn't see Katherine again until a week before the Wonderland Fashion Show, when he's trying not to fall asleep in his seat and Fleur is poking fun at his designs again. Katherine sweeps into the room like the elegant storm that she is, nodding approvingly at the four of them.

"Listen up, fuckers," she starts, "the fashion show is a week away and you need to know who you're up against."

Katherine points at Fleur first. "You. Bonnefoy. Feliciano has decided for Caterpillar and Co. to stop working with Romana, meaning that we will be facing off against my brother and his team. I know absolutely nothing about the model he's training up, except that she's barely nineteen and some girl he picked up off the streets. And you." She points to Matthew next, and Maria kicks him in the shin to wake him up.

"Williams, the designer working with Feliciano is Lukasiewicz, who designed the outfit last year. He is an idiot and your work is far better than his. That is all you need to know." She points at Fleur again, who straightens up at Katherine's glare. "Bonnefoy, prove that you're better than Feliciano's mystery model. I don't care how you do it, beat Feliciano and you'll be the richest girl in New York."

Maria leans over to whisper in Fleur's ear when they hear that, sharing a sly smile that Matthew doesn't notice. Instead, he thinks of the posters all around New York, the advertisements on television and everything on the gossip coloumns.

Katherine versus Feliciano. Fleur against a literal mystery. Him facing off against Lukasiewicz. A sibling rivalry that's blossomed into one of the dealiest battles in fashion history.

But banishing thoughts of siblings and unknowns, Matthew turns back to his sketchbook.

…

He's done.

The seamstress is worked half to death and he's so tired that he can barely stand, but Fleur's dress, the product of four consecutive all-nighters and at least a liter of coffee, is completed just in time for the Wonderland Fashion Show. As he looks at the lace collar, the ruffled hem, the scalloped sleeves, Matthew can't help but smile.

It's the best thing he's ever created.

Fleur is nowhere to be seen and has probably not seen his creation yet, but Katherine has seen the dress, slapped him on the shoulder and said, like a proud mother, "I knew I made a good decision hiring you. My goodness, Matthew, I seem to have underestimated you. This is the most beautiful thing I've seen in my life, and I've seen some pretty beautiful things."

His face hurts from smiling.

…

Ally whoops and slaps the mannequin, tipping it over and thankfully saved by an eagle-eyed Kiku. "Feliks, you're amazing," she gushes, "this is… wow. Just wow. It's amazing."

"I mean, it's nice, if I do say so myself," he can't keep the pride from his voice as he runs his fingers over the embroidered bodice. "Ardelean will kill me later on for this. The poor guy, he threw this thing together in one night."

"Tell Feli to give him a raise after this."

Athena gets up from her seat and stretches. "I'm asking him to give us _all_ a raise after this," she says, "especially Kiku."

"I didn't help very much in particular," she protests, "any photographer could've done my job."

Eyes strained from looking at every detail in the dress, Ally turns to Kiku and Athena. "Don't say that, Kiku! Without you, Athena wouldn't have had any photos to put in her magazine, and nobody likes magazine articles without photos. Come on, let's have a group hug." She spreads her arms. "Just before the fashion show!"

She feels like she's going to overflow with pride as Feliks squeezes her hands and cheers.

…

"There it is." Fleur points to Lukasiewicz's dress, fitted on a mannequin in the middle of the changing room.

Maria peers into the room. "Is there anyone inside?"

"Everybody else is out there at the television broadcast, and Feliciano's team is giving their model a pep talk." Fleur nudges Maria towards the dress, excitement bubbling in her chest. "Go on, just take it. I'll meet you back in my prep room."

…

"And up next is the beautiful Lioness of the North Agata Oxenstierna, with an outfit by Tino Vainamoinen of Pohjoinen! Would you look at her! Agata's a tall, willowy beauty, and those boots really show that off, don't you think?"

Ally squeezes Feliks's hand tighter, ignoring how he winces. "Look at her, she's so pretty and confident," she says, now shaking her designer's arm around like a maraca. "How can I do better than her?"

"By following your training." Feliks examines the red marks on his hand. "And not making me dislocate my hand."

"Ladies and gentlemen, watch out for Ilona Galante! Our little lady here really packs a punch with her bold red getup!"

Kiku squeaks in surprise as Ally grabs _her_ hand and starts squeezing. "Ally," she protests weakly, "I'd like to go home today without broken fingers, please."

"I can't do this! Why did Feliciano choose me when he could've chosen literally anyone else? What on earth was he —"

"Get ready, folks, and feast your eyes upon Fleur Bonnefoy of Romana, last year's winner!"

Kiku wrestles Ally's hand away and gasps.

Feliks shrieks.

Athena's eyes widen.

Because Fleur is sashaying her way down the runway, a wicked grin curving her lips as the skirt of Ally's dress flares out with every step.

"What the hell?" Feliks points at the television, hand shaking. "Why the hell is she wearing the dress I designed?"

Across the room, Feliciano jumps up from his seat. "Katherine must've had her designer stole it! Oh, Ally, I'm so sorry."

She feels frozen in place, staring in horror as Fleur twirls and winks at the camera.

…

Practically shaking, Matthew storms towards Fleur's prep room and flings the door open. There his dress stands, abandoned on the mannequin. _Of course,_ he thinks, _Fleur didn't wear it. But I'll make sure the world sees it anyway!_

He scours the room for what he needs, slipping on his disguise with still-trembling hands. Matthew drops his glasses on the bench, flings the door open and runs for the stage.

"Last but not least, we have Allison F. Jones of Caterpillar and Co., wearing—"

Matthew steps out onto the runway, smoothing back his wig and walking the way he's seen Fleur do so many times. He flashes what he hopes is his most charming smile and waves, as the commentator whistles.

"Well, would you look at that! The designer must be some sort of genius to create such a masterpiece!"

He beams at that, walking with renewed vigour when he sees Fleur at the end of the runway, eyes wide and stock-still.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I think we've got a winner today! There's no doubt that Allison here will win the title of Best Model in the Wonderland Fashion Show, am I right?"

Matthew reaches Fleur, who falls to her knees with tears in her eyes. He bends down and takes a handkerchief out of his pocket, handing it to her.

Fleur's eyes widen as she stares at Matthew. He pulls off his wig and hears Fleur gasp, winking and grinning only to proclaim,

"Chase me, Fashionista!"

* * *

This story was based on the song Alice in N.Y. by HitoshizukuxYama.


End file.
